


To Feel Wanted

by dragonswithjetpacks



Series: Ferelith Moonshade - The Book Keeper [9]
Category: Baldur's Gate, Forgotten Realms
Genre: Angst, Blow Job, F/M, Lust, Meaningful Oral, NSFW, Oral, Porn With Plot, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sexual Tension, Yearning, resolved emotional tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:14:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28640586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonswithjetpacks/pseuds/dragonswithjetpacks
Summary: After an abrupt exchange in a closet that morning, Ferelith and Astarion had left each other with questioning thoughts. And Ferelith, determined to give answers, felt as if she should discover if they would suite her needs. Though through some thought, she finds that her needs are not as lacking as his... Pherhaps it's time Astarion learns to enjoy himself.
Relationships: Astarion (Baldur's Gate)/Original Female Character(s), Astarion/Female Charname (Baldur's Gate)
Series: Ferelith Moonshade - The Book Keeper [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2092497
Comments: 5
Kudos: 41





	To Feel Wanted

**Author's Note:**

> Part two to The Quiet Closet.  
> I couldn't just write porn, I had to make it dramatic. *sighs at myself*  
> Still not sorry. Skip to the " >> " for the naughty bits.

Read part one [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28522749).

This was inspired by [this lovely piece art](https://kota-stoker.tumblr.com/image/638956427665342464) by the super taltened [kota-stoke@tumblr](https://kota-stoker.tumblr.com/).

It was midday and the sun was high, but the breeze was cool enough to make the weather pleasantly tolerable. The path they walked upon was shaded surprisingly well. And all together, they were having a rather good and quiet day. Ferelith, in particular, was deathly quiet. It wasn't unusual for her to go hours without speaking. But since they had left the little town, she had not said a single word. Every so often there would be the sound of a sigh coming through her nose. But when anyone looked at her for reasoning, there would be none. Her face was blank, eyes focused, and head straight. She marched diligently, keeping pace to be a good distance ahead.

The only person who seemed to have an inkling of an idea of what was going through Ferelith's head was Astarion. And given the very brief exchange they had that morning, he was not about to spoil her thoughts. When the others questioned him, he simply shrugged. They knew well enough that the two had interloped a few nights before. But that was all they knew. Even when they pressed for more. While Astarion enjoyed making comments about their night together, he still would not give details what had occurred during or after. He had learned his lesson and was still unsure exactly how Ferelith felt about continuing their rendezvous. His eyes kept wandering over to her, searching for some sort of sign. There were times she would catch him staring and for a moment, there would be a hint of a smile. But nothing more. She more or less refused to acknowledge him.

This did nothing to his ego, however. He was still as chatty as always and never lost a single pep to his step. Ferelith didn't understand how he could remain so calm. She was incredibly anxious. Her mind kept flashing back to that infernal closet as if it had burned itself into the back of her mind. It would remind her skin what his tongue felt like against her throat. There would be a rise inside her, but she shoved it back down to think of something else. Something that would occupy her thoughts more vividly... but the idea of him always slowly lingered back. Just as he did in person. She grew annoyed that he was always this way, even figuratively.

"We should take quick rest," Gale said, turning to the rest of the group. "It's been too quiet for too long. I think it's smart to assume there will be trouble ahead."

The silence was disturbed. And only then did things grow awkward between the group. When they were walking, there was no need to look at one another. Let alone carry a conversation. Now that all was still, eyes shifted and feet shuffled.

"I think I'll run off the trail for a bit," Ferelith stretched her arms outward. "There's got to be something useful out in the wood."

"Picking for poisons again?" Shadowheart raised a brow.

"If I'm lucky," she winked.

"Want company?"

"No. But I do appreciate the offer."

Simple reply. Simple conversation. No complexity. No hard feelings. Just a nod. With that, Ferelith left. Astarion watched her, his eyes following as if she were prey. He knew it would be best to let her go alone. She needed a clear head. And even though a small piece of him wanted to follow, he didn't want the others to gain the impression he was completely attached... not yet, anyway. It was bad enough they knew they were both missing that morning.

While Ferelith was gone, he leaned against the tree, looking up and watching the leaves dance with the breeze. When he was bored of that, he sat at it's base flipping through the pages of the most recent book he had obtain. And when he grew bored of that, he closed his eyes with hands behind his head imagining what his next meal would taste like. While he tried to think loudly about boars or deer, there image of a woman kept reappearing. And though he was still hungry for her, he was not feasting on her neck.

"Damn it all," he sighed, lowered his hands and bringing his elbows to his knees.

Looking around the camp, he watched the others... judging them quietly. They hadn't the slightest idea of what he had done to her, even if they did have suspicions. And somehow it made it that much better. He leaned forward with his hands clasped together, his legs growing ever more anxious. The more he thought about her, the more of a burden it became. It was not as if he wanted to. She just appeared, showing him she still existed in his thoughts, gazing around corners and sprinting through doors. Previous encounters had never tormented him like this before. Not that he could remember, at any rate. It confused him. He was satisfied with the idea of her dancing around his memories. But at the same time, he felt a more complex feeling that he was unable to reason with. And every time he pushed aside, it eventually came back. It made him want to be near her. He inhaled, and as if his thoughts made it to be true, he could smell her nearby. She was approaching the road again. He stood up, eager to proceed with their voyage.

Ferelith, who was still rummaging through her bag when she approached, did not notice the elf walking by. She looked up just in time to see his back. There was a slight peeping noise that came from her mouth as she was startled, causing Astarion to turn and look at her. When he did, she watched his face turn into a wicked smile. She, on the other hand, felt her face grow hot and thought she was melting into her boots for certain.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" he inquired.

Ferelith froze, recalling the last hour where she had simply just been chiding herself in the forest while she threw several rocks at trees. There was a hope that she would somehow manage to redefine how she felt about him. Eventually, she came to the conclusion that he was an excuse to allow a bit of stress relief. But then, she would quickly change her mind as the mere thought of him alone was enough to fluster her anymore. The final verdict was simply the fact that she didn't know. And that no matter her decision, there was no use in treating him like a pawn. Because there was always that fact... he most certainly was no toy to her.

"Yes," she finally answered, able to relax a bit under his gaze. "Just a few more to add the collection."

"Mushrooms?" he asked, surprising even himself.

"How could you have guessed?"

She shook her head, strolling away from him and back toward Gale. Astarion rolled his eyes, not bothering to watch her walk away. How was it he had gotten to know her so well? Ah, yes... conversation. It had been some time since he had paid attention to someone longer than just one night. Funny how the mind remembers little things about one person. Things like mushroom collections. And the poisonous ones she mashed into a paste. There were also edible ones she kept in two separate jars; the sliced ones being for cooking and the whole ones kept for... well... other things. Mostly for her own use. In small doses, however, he found the whole ones useful for sleeping. He noted to himself to ask her about those mushrooms in particular as he trailed behind the rest of the party, being the last... and being the one to catch the profile of her face as she laughed and smiled while talking to their wizard companion. A hint of jealousy passed over, but dissipated quickly. Her happiness was none of his business.

* * *

The weather had become exceedingly humid at night, for some odd reason. Ferelith had suggested rain was likely in their future which lead to a unison of grumbles from the rest of the group. She had parted shortly after, taking her bedroll to practice rituals in the forest under the moon. It was expected, really, for her to be alone so often. But Astarion knew. And he could feel his heart swelling into his throat as she gave him a knowing smile before she walked away. He would find her soon. But first, he needed to eat. If he did not satiate the thirst for blood first, his hunger would turn into something more. And given the thoughts that strayed into his mind earlier that day, he did not want to take any chances knowing he would be with Ferelith later.

Keeping himself in a trance to regain his strength, he waited several hours until the moon was high. It lit up the camp, more than the piddly fire before him which had been burning on small bits of wood. He looked about, noting who had fallen asleep and who had not. Shadowheart had watch duty. And he was very aware she cared very little of his actions. Still, when he stood, she shot over a warning glance. A moment of panic flushed over him as he thought that perhaps she knew of his nightly endeavors. But with a quick wave and a flash of his teeth, she rolled her eyes and he knew he was safe once again. The night had many things of the forest to offer. And he was looking forward to them all.

* * *

Finding a clearing the midst of the heavily wooden forest proved difficult. The trees were thick, their roots twisting and turning through the earth. Eventually, however, she had a found a piece of ground flat enough to make her rest. There was no grass, just mulched leaves and the sweet smell of dirt. She rolled out her bedrolls, tossing the small pillows onto it even if just for appearance. With a deep breath, she began to shed the leather armor, always feeling relief when it came off. The moment she slipped into her robe, she knew the battle was over and she could focus on other things. There was still time before she expected anyone. Which meant she was free to study.

The books provided no comfort, however. The more she tried to focus, the harder it became. Words became blurred, sentences made no sense, and thoughts faded the moment they entered. Blinking heavily with a good shake of her head, she looked back down into her book finding dots of ink in the margins where she had been tapping impatiently. Her heart was anxious. With a grumble of defeat, she dipped her quill in the ink well. Her penmanship was beautiful, swirling and marking over and under within the side of the pages. When she finished, she was quite pleased with the craftsmanship.

"I can't believe I've done this," she said aloud. "Like a naive fool..."

Her voice faded. But she dare not say anything else. Ferelith ripped the page, folding it neatly. Careful and delicately, she took her sacred tome out from the breast pocket of her leather chest piece. And in the midst of the pages she placed her own folded piece. There would forever remain the word she wrote, the name of the one who trouble her so. The one who occupied her mind.

_Astarion._

"Bastard," she whispered, tucking the book into the pocket it belonged.

Heavy was the breath that came from her sigh, and she looked up into the sky looking for a sense of peace. What she found, instead, was a moon rising quickly into the center of it's stage. It was bright and blooming, much to her liking. It should have been a night devoted to her patron. But she had made plans with another. It would not be happy. Still, she thought there would be no shame in asking for other favors...

* * *

>>As he wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, he noticed a strange scent in the air. He inhaled again and found he was quite wrong. It was not so much that the initial smell was strange, but familiar. The strange part was that it lingered in the center of the forest. The strong smell of dead wood, the potent smell of herbs, and the sweet smell of flowers entered his nose. Lifting his head into the air, he wondered if he had ventured too close too soon. But just as he looked in the direction of the fragrance, a mist began to pour around him. He could feel her within it's magic, luring him and calling him forward.

The fog was compliant for a common spell, swirling in front of him, allowing him to see his steps so that he wouldn't trip on the roots. And when he turned in the wrong direction, it thickened to let him know that he was not what he was supposed to go that far. He obliged the magic best he could, holding his hands out and feeling it swirl around his finger tips like a hand of it's own was tugging at him. It tickled his palms and for a second, he swore he could hear whispers buzzing in his ears. The more the voices grew, the thinner the fog became. And when he felt the wisps leave his hands, he saw the clearing before him. Around it was a herd of fireflies beckoning their mates and lighting the fog surrounding him. The only place the fog dare not enter was a circle in the clearing. At the center... was his dear Ferelith.

She appeared to be too occupied to notice him, lighting small white candles upon the rocks and roots surrounding the bed rolls. But it gave him all the more opportunity to look upon her beauty amidst the night. Her hair was down, loose waves to the middle of her back. Around her body was her usual lace robe and nothing more than her small clothes underneath. The lace left him just enough to see her skin, allowing his eyes to explore the shapes of her body.

"You didn't have to do all this for me," Astarion interrupted her, gesturing to their surroundings.

"I didn't," she smiled and he knew there was a bit of teasing to the statement.

"If I recall," he lowered himself onto the blanket, "I only needed a bit of wine and a campfire to lure you."

"I have something better," she waved the incense she used to light the candles.

"What's that?" he cocked his head.

"Your curiosity," she turned to look at him, her eyes flashing her devious intent.

Ferelith was not a vocal woman. Astarion had learned long ago to trust in her eyes and her body, for that is where her truth would lie. Otherwise, she was charismatic and charming, also proficient in persuasion and lies. Her tongue could weave better than his at times. And he had not seen the extent of it's magic. Though, he knew very much wanted to know all the talents of her tongue. In respect to that, his remained silent.

"You're quiet tonight," she she said softly, crawling onto the blanket next to him. "I had expected more of a reaction."

Astarion watched quietly as she bunched the robe around her when she knelt in front of him. "I do not mean to disappoint you, darling."

"Tell me..." her head tilted, her neck extending as she display her chin. "What do you make of all this?"

He looked about his surroundings, absorbing the ambience she had created.

"It appears you have put in quite a bit of effort into this affair," his head turned as he scanned the wood. "It's a nice gesture. But I'm afraid a man of my nature doesn't deserve something so-"

Before he could complete his rotation, two fingers were placed on his lips, interrupting his reply. The first thought was that the notion was rude. But the true intention was revealed with her hastened response.

"Stop," she pressed them firmly against him. Removing them slowly, she opened her palm and slid her hand over jawline. She looked at his mouth, still open after being interrupted, and she could see the points of his teeth. Her eyes followed her hand up his jawline, the back of her thumb tucking behind his ear.

"You do not get to decide what I think you deserve," her gaze drifted over his. "You've done nothing but make me feel wanted... I want to make you feel wanted.."

There was a spark in her eyes when she said it, making him question what she meant. Astarion tightened his grip on the blanket beneath him as an overwhelming wave crept over his chest. The words had hit like a brick of emotion, making everything fall heavily around him.

"Astarion," she began to crawl forward, "Will you give me the night?"

She watched as his eyes looked frantically upon her face.

"For you," his voice was low... soft ... sweet ... "I'd give a thousand nights,"

Ferelith gave somewhat of a half grin and he felt her thumb caress the side of his neck. She slowly leaned forward and he closed his eyes, anticipating the moment her soft lips greeted his own. Everything about her movements were gentle and calm. The tension and anxiety he had felt all day slowly faded with her touch. And when she placed her hands on his chest, he obeyed her push and lowered himself down. She brushed aside her robe so she could raise her knee, lifting it above him so that he could rest between her legs. He rose to kiss her, wanting to taste her, but she gently pushed him back down. Her eyes sparked with a hint of mischief and she began to unbutton his vestments

At first, it struck Astarion as something that didn't quite feel right. There was a burst of agony in his chest as he longed to tear the robe from her body and ravish her. The leisurely pace of her hands was enough to drive him to the brink of madness. He looked up and into her eyes, feeling her hands slide up his chest when she was finished. The unsettling writhing subsided, the smooth motion of her hands washing it away. Her hands came over his shoulders and he lifted up, bringing his lips to the nape of her neck. He felt the leather slide off his arms and her hands came to the back of his head as she cradled him still caressing her skin with his lips. He lifted his hands, lowering her robe around her shoulder and kissing the top of it. He felt her lean away, her fingers reaching down to pull his shirt. There was a look of determination to her, but in a persevering way. Something that told him she was enjoying what she was doing.

"You're teasing me," he pouted looking up at her with sad eyes.

"I'm not," she reassured him, lifting his shirt above his shoulders. "You're impatient."

"That doesn't mean you don't enjoy tormenting me me this way," he stated after throwing his shirt over his head.

Her wicked grin confirmed his observation. Ferelith placed both her hands admiringly on either side of his face, bringing him up to her lips and hushing him before he spoke any more foolish words. He embraced her, his hands running along her back, tugging the robe further down. The touch of her bare skin on his chest made him ache, bringing back a hunger he had been craving since that morning. She could feel him beneath her, his want growing with every brush of her lips. Her hips rolled forward, pressing him tightly against her. The sound that came from the bottom his lungs made her smile. As she pulled away, she pressed down on him again. And just as before, he accepted the direction of her hand. Her lips, though, fell to the side of his head where her teeth nibble on the side of his ear.

"I'm supposed to be the one biting you," he said in a low voice.

Ferelith ignored him, working down his ear to his neck. She pressed her tongue against it, sucking with her lips and biting down gently. He inhaled quickly but released it slowly as she slid her tongue down. A single knee lifted, nudging his leg to the side. He moved it begrudgingly as she dove lower. He could still feel the heat on his neck from the mark she left, making him smile in thought that everyone would see it later. The caressing continued with small bites lining his collarbone until she reached his center. Her hands slid under his arms, and she pushed them up as she drifted down, her lips grazing down his stomach. She stopped midway, flicking her tongue and massaging him with her lips again. Another mark. She was slow and precise, causing his a sigh of impatience to slip between breaths. She refused to acknowledge it, hovering over to his hip bone and biting down upon it diligently. He groaned, his body tensing before her. She kissed his stomach and laughed, lifting her sights to watch his reaction as she slid her hand to the brim of his breeches. There was a long slow exhale from his mouth as she unclasped the buttons. And then, a quick gasp as she clutched him at his base, pulling him upward free from restraint. For a moment, he was able to look down.

"Still feeling tormented?" she asked, stroking him slowly.

"Absolute... torture," he lay his head back onto the comfort of the blanket.

Every kiss she placed was wet, every flick of the tongue drawing out his desire, every nibble making him tense... all of it growing closer to where he needed to feel her. Ironically, it somehow made him... relaxed. The feeling of her hand pulling- tightening closer to the top, and then loosening at the base- accompanied by the gentle caress of her lips across his stomach made breathing easier. He felt his body soften as if it was melting into the blanket, slumping down and bringing his hips upward. Ferelith shifted above him as she pushed her hair to one side. He felt the heat of her mouth at his base before the sensation of her wet tongue. It crept up the length, flicking the top before she bit down on it ever so slightly. He moaned, his mouth open and neck pulled back, and followed it with a chuckle.

"Oooooh... my dearest," he smiled.

He had no intention of finishing his sentence. Not that he could. He became utterly speechless when her lips enclosed around him, sucking and waving her tongue against him. His back arched and his head fell back, his fists bunching the blanket above his head. The nods were slow at first, taking in just the tip while her hand worked around the rest of him. The more she moved, the wetter it became and she could taste the beginnings of his satisfaction. His hips thrust forward, a quiet groan escaping. His brow was furled and his eyes rolled into the back of his head. He could not control his breathing and felt his lips drying with his fast breaths.

It felt incredible. And he thought he might be nearing a state of bliss when suddenly, the grip of her lips plunged. Her tongue flattened against him as she pulled him in deeper. There was a rush of intensity that passed through him and she could feel him twitch inside her mouth. She moaned softly, the vibrations sending a jolt of euphoria through his body. He moaned again, louder this time and heavier with a hearty breath. Ferelith clutched the blanket next to her as well, feeling him sway harder against her. It was taking everything he had to control himself. But the absolute pleasure she was giving to him was enough to keep his feral thoughts in check.

Ferelith, though, knew feral things far better than Astarion could imagine. She knew how to draw the wild from someone. She wanted to make him howl. She pulled all the way up, flicking her tongue against his edge and sucking harder. She dipped down, and he gasped as he filled her mouth. And with each stroke of her neck, she went deeper. Until finally, he felt her lips pressed to the base below his stomach. A loud moan burst from his mouth, an exasperated sigh of air releasing from his chest. Even after she felt him coming in the back of her throat, she kept going. Deeper and much slower strokes kept him pumping. And as he was at his end, he began to squirm underneath her. She came up one last time, licking him all the way up and swallowing what was left in her mouth.

Looking down, she watched Astarion's chest heave from the deep breaths that kept escaping him. She placed both hands on either side, kissing him up his stomach and chest. His eyes were closed, sweat beading across his brow, and his hair was tousled, which was a nice sight for a change. He looked to be at peace, lost somewhere between the material plane and whatever realm she had sent him to. His eyes slowly opened and she could barely see the red between the two slits. She crawled over him, her kisses reaching the side of his neck. He lowered a hand to the back of her head, running his hands through her hair.

"Devious thing, aren't you?"

She bit down on him, tasting the salt of his sweat. He hissed, arching his neck and turning away, a shudder running through his body. She gave a gentle kiss where her teeth had been with a subtle laughter signifying her victory. He turned back toward her, his eyes fully open and observing her carefully. She bared witness to his smile, one that gave her proof that he was utterly satisfied. Laying down beside him, she gave a patient sigh with a small hum. He tucked his arm underneath her, the other resting underneath his head. His eyes looked above and he could see the fireflies still hovering over them.

"What were you going to say before?" she ran her hand down his chest. "Before I hushed you? About what you didn't deserve?"

Astarion stared up into the sky. He blinked, letting thoughts dribble through. He looked down to Ferelith, watching her own hand dancing across his skin.

"Thoughtful," he replied. "I don't deserve something so thoughtful."

"Astarion," she looked up.

"Yes, darling?"

"I'm not certain I know what to make of this..."

Truth be told, neither did he. But he knew he did not need to say it in order for her to understand.

"... but I do know I enjoy your company."

"And I enjoy yours," he leaned his head into hers, smelling the perfume in her hair and being reminded of the mist that brought him there.

"I don't mean to resent you. But the idea of this troubles me. I haven't been with anyone for a very long time. And I've forgotten how to make others happy. I wanted to know it for myself. And I... suppose that's why I want to keep this secret. I don't want anyone else involved. I hardly know if I want to be involved."

"Yet another thing I adore about you," he said softly into her hair. "Everything is a mystery that must be solved."

"What, pray tell, does that mean?" she lowered her brow.

"It means you complicate things," he smiled. "Not that it means it's wrong... but you certainly get bored of what comes easy."

"I don't know," she nestled into him. "You came pretty easy."

"Oh, hey now," he nudged her. "Don't sell yourself short. That was talent, my love."


End file.
